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She held up a hand. “You’ve done enough. Really. I’ll…I’ll call you later, or you call me if you find out anything about Dani.”

“Shannon—”

“Not now. Please. Neither one of us has time. Let’s just find Dani and go from there, okay?” she asked, staring at the lines on his face. Damn, it was a good-looking face. But he, like all the men in her life, was untrustworthy.

She slid out of his truck, slammed the door and stood in the dusty parking lot. The late afternoo

n sun caused ripples of heat to rise on the street, distorting her view of the traffic, neon signs and storefronts. Forcing a smile, she used her hand as a visor, watching as Travis threw the truck into reverse and pulled out of the lot.

Stupidly, she felt a tug on her heart. As if she really loved the guy. “Fool,” she muttered, kicking at a pebble in frustration. She walked into the glass-fronted building and noticed the fleet of cars parked behind a wall of chain-link. Some of the cars were dented and showed wear, but others seemed right as the proverbial rain.

Within half an hour, she was at the wheel of a five-year-old Mazda in great condition and nosing it toward her mother’s house.

He was irritated. Edgy. Mad at the kid. At himself. Because of the time he’d lost, he had to give up some of his plans. There were others who had to pay, but they would have to wait. Until after.

Now, because of the damned kid, he’d have to move up his timeline.

Though it was near ninety, he lit a fire, stripped off his clothes and felt the burning heat searing his skin, bringing back the horror that he replayed over and over in his mind, reminding himself that he had vengeance to wreak.

The flames on the wood in the cabin’s fireplace grew hotter and he began to sweat, pulling off his clothes, feeling the heat even more.

Flames…all the flames…he remembered them, remembered watching them consume his victim…how they’d swirled and grown, snapping through the forest. The man had been unconscious as the fire had crawled up and around him, smoke roiling in angry black clouds to the sky.

In a whoosh, the wind had come up and the fire had turned, starting to cut off his escape. He couldn’t wait any longer. He ran, upward along the trail, feeling the searing heat, noticing, in the corner of his eye, the flames arc and then, quickly, without notice sparks rained from the sky. In his hair, on his neck, igniting his clothes.

Pain seared across his back and he stopped in the trail, dropped to the ground and rolled, back and forth, trying to extinguish the fire, feeling the heat as the forest crackled and burned around him.

He’d been foolish.

Waited too long.

He would die with his victim. Ryan Carlyle and an unidentified man…though it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out.

He forced himself to his feet and plunged forward, his shirt burned away, his skin blistered raw and throbbing. One foot in front of the other, upward, to the spot where he’d parked his car. For a second he worried that the car would be encircled in flames or catch fire, that the gas tank would explode and he’d have no way out but on foot.

But as he crested the hill, his lungs burning, he saw the vehicle and knew he could escape.

His back raged with pain and would no doubt be scarred.

But he would survive.

And he had.

To wreak his vengeance.

His lips curled into a cold smile at the memory.

Straightening, he slowly extinguished the flames with his own piss. He liked the feel of it, the power he had over the fire. He liked to hear the angry hiss as he shot his stream over the coals. He thrummed with energy.

Now was the time.

Now.

As he finished, he walked naked to the door of the room where he held her. Pounding with a fist, he yelled, “Okay, it’s show time.” Using the claw end of his hammer he pulled off the two-by-two he’d used to imprison her. The long nails creaked as they pulled out. The board clattered to the floor.

He found her clothes and shoes, then tossed them into the dark room, not even trying to locate her. She couldn’t have escaped and now, at last, she would serve her purpose. “Hurry up,” he said.

Though nightfall was still hours away, he had a lot to accomplish.


Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery